Malicious Intent
by VeritaParlata
Summary: Three lives collide in this tale of seduction, greed and murder...
1. Prologue:

Malicious Intent

Rating: Mature  
Characters: Belle/Shawn/Chloe;  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters from _Days of Our Lives_.  
Description: She is the dutiful wife: a prisoner of a gilded cage. He is the powerful heir to a publishing empire: a prisoner of duty and prestige. She is the owner of an erotic club: a prisoner of the choices she made. Who will survive when three lives connect in a mystery shrouded in secrets and lies?

**Author's Note:** I have not written anything for Days in *so* very long, and this hit me like a ton of bricks. When you envision Belle and Shawn, think Kirsten Storms and Jason Cook. They're the only Belle & Shawn for me. Enjoy!

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|| Prologue ||

Isabella 'Belle' Brady stood watching her husband Shawn from outside the glass window. His motionless body lie strapped to the hospital bed. From where she stood, Belle could see his face twist and contort with whatever visions played behind his closed lids. She watched as he struggled against the restraints holding him tightly in place, and that sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach grew colder.

Her blue eyes remained emotionless while watching the nurse on duty inside the room give him a sedative to help him sleep. She tried to imagine how he felt, wondering if he felt as powerless as he currently was. The thought intrigued her, for Belle would never classify her husband as 'powerless'. No one would consider the heir to one of the most profitable publishing companies in the world - one of the riches and most powerful family - powerless.

Yet, as she continued to stare at her husband, she came to think of him that way.

Never, in the seven years they have been married, has Belle ever thought she'd be standing here in the psychiatric ward of the Salem University Hospital with her husband as a patient. Then again, never in the seven years they have been married did Belle ever think the obstacles that have present themselves would. Shawn having a mental breakdown was the least of her worries.

The worst of it was coming down the corridor at this very moment. The sound of high heeled shoes assaulting the linoleum floor grew louder when the steps came closer. Belle didn't have to turn her head to know it was her mother in-law, Hope Douglass-Brady that was coming. She knew it by the way the temperature dropped ten degrees, because Hope Douglass-Brady was the coldest bitch she ever knew, and she knew that was just how Hope intended to come across.

Sighing heavily, the wealthy benefactress stopped next to her daughter in-law. The scent of her highly expensive perfume assaulted Belle's nose. The cream pant-suit she wore was form-fitting and hugged her in all the right spots. That was something else Hope liked. She wanted to appear perfect. And that's just what she was. From the top of her well-coiffed head to the cream stilettos she wore; nothing was out of place. Nothing was missing.

God, how Belle hated her.

"Isabella," Hope acknowledged condescendingly, saying her name in a stern, annoyed tone. That's how she always said Belle's name. From the moment she set foot into the Kiriakis mansion as Shawn's fiancée. Belle turned to face her, knowing she wouldn't continue speaking until she was acknowledged. "What has happened to my son?"

My son. That's how she always addresses Shawn, even when Belle wasn't present. Belle knew it was because Hope saw Shawn as more of a possession than a child of her own body. Shawn was nothing more than a way for Hope to keep her position as Mrs. Beauregard Brady. Sure, Shawn told her that once, a very long time ago, his parents did indeed love each other but that duty and business got in the way, Belle had a hard time believing that.

Belle sighed heavily before speaking, unsure of most of it herself. She looked into the room briefly, watching Shawn lie motionless again, before turning back to Hope. "I'm unclear on most of the details. The arresting officer said he found Shawn sitting in the dark of a club wailing against the darkness, and that he was covered in blood."

Before she could continue with the rest of what she was told, Hope interrupted her. "I'm aware of all of that, Isabella," Hope supplied indignantly.

_Of course, she was_, Belle thought. The officer had no doubt drove to the Kiriakis mansion and told them himself. Seeing as how half the police force was on the Kiriakis payroll, Belle was certain that no matter what happened, Shawn would suffer no consequences.

"What I do not understand is _why_ Shawn-Douglas is _here_," Hope's dark brown eyes held such fire in them, Belle could have sworn they almost changed colors. "As if this family hasn't suffered enough…" She looked Belle over derisively. "…embarrassments."

"It was not my decision to have Shawn admitted here, H-" Hope's eyes narrowed sharply. "Mrs. Brady," Belle amended. "The District Attorney insisted."

Hope huffed indignantly, momentarily losing the composure she was known for. She looked into the room the held her son, and Belle waited for any type of emotion to fill them. None did. "Shawn-Douglas does not belong here," she said softly, Belle unsure if she were speaking generally or to her. "My son does not belong strapped to a bed like a common criminal." She looked over to Belle. "His father or I will make a call to the mayor. He's an old family friend."

Belle nodded. She already knew that. He was at their wedding.

"What's the name of this… district attorney?"

"Jason Masters."

Belle could tell Hope was making a mental note of the man's name. The bitch never forgot anything anyway. She could only imagine what terrible deeds she was trumping up to frame the man with and ruin his career.

"I'm sorry that I wasn't more insistent that Shawn shouldn't be brought here. I know that we do not need another scandal," Belle apologized, not because she was sorry but because it was expected of her.

Hope smiled that cold, treacherous smile that she was just as well known for, and Belle prepared for the verbal slap that was to come. "That's fine, Isabella," Hope began, her voice almost sickeningly sweet. "Shawn-Douglas' father and I did not expect you to handle this situation any better than the others that have presented themselves since the day our son married you. And honestly, how could you when you've been the biggest scandal since the day you came into our house as the bastard child of our maid." Hope's smile faded just as quickly as it rose and she turned from her daughter in-law and proceeded to walk back down the hall.

Belle watched her until she disappeared from sight, blowing out the breath she wasn't aware she was holding. Hope hadn't so much as set foot into Shawn's room to see him more closely. Not that Belle really expected her to; Hope wouldn't allow _anyone_ to see her inside a room in the psychiatric ward, whether it was to see her son or not. The press had probably already paid some nurse on this floor to take pictures for them.

Belle could already see the headlines.

She returned to looking through the window at her husband. He looked at peace now. She wanted to laugh, almost did. There was no peace to be had in this family, she realized that now. No peace, no happiness, no love. Nothing but duty, honor, prestige and money.

She would do her duty. She would be the vigilant wife and watch over her husband, for he was a prisoner… just like she was.


	2. Chapter 1

|| Chapter One ||

Chloe Lane surveyed the charred remains of the dance floor in her club. A little more than three hours ago she received the call from the Salem Police Department that publishing heir and multi-billionaire Shawn-Douglas Brady had been found screaming while shooting a gun inside her club and when the police tried to apprehend him, he set fire to part of it in a last stand. It took her so long to get here because three hours ago, Chloe Lane was preparing to leave Salem for good.

Her long black hair swept across her bare shoulders when she bent down to pick up the distorted gold ring with the Kiriakis emblem. Emotions she'd rather not feel clouded those impossibly blue eyes of hers, and she had to straighten herself out before the cops who let her in returned.

It was unfathomable really, the way her mind refused to let images of the past go. She'd trained herself a long time ago to not let the past cloud her present. She tended to act on logic than impulse because emotions only served to do two things as far as Chloe was concerned: one) get others hurt or two) give them the power to hurt you. She'd lived the past eighteen years with that philosophy and did pretty well so far.

Chloe wasn't extremely rich, but she wasn't destitute either. She lived comfortably in a condo overlooking the city, and far off to the outskirts, a lake. She drove a Mercedes, dined in the finest restaurants in town, and was incredibly well known. Not bad for a woman of just thirty.

Of course, not being of the high, noble class in Salem, and being that her club, _Eden,_ was considered little more than a brothel, Chloe wasn't too high on some people's lists. She heard the snickers of the upper crust wives of the men who practically owned the town. They never said anything to her face, deeming her too unimportant to even address, so Chloe didn't let it bother her. In truth, she liked it when those women complained and talked about her behind her back, for she knew that only the night before, their husbands lay in the upstairs part of her club in the beds of the girls she employed.

It filled Chloe with such devious pride to be the one to bring a little decadence into this town, not that Salem needed anymore help in that department. It was just something about knocking those upper crust bitches down a peg that appealed to her.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at me," Chloe began saying as she turned to face the man darkening the somewhat burnt doorway. "Or are you going to ask the questions you came to ask? Though I don't know how much help I'll be since I wasn't present when my club went up in flames."

District Attorney Jason Masters stared at the raven-haired beauty who often occupied his thoughts late at night, drinking in the sight of her. The halter-top that tied in a loose knot around her neck carried a dangerously low back and an even more deceptively low front. He could see the sides of her breasts, their fullness and color bringing forth memories of when she lay naked beneath him. The leather pants clung tightly to her hips and accentuated the natural curve of her body. She was just as beautiful as she'd always been. And she was still just as deadly to desire.

"It's always amazed me how you could do that," Jason said, standing in his same spot at the door. He was afraid if he got any closer to her, he wouldn't be able to do his job. More than that, he was afraid he would kiss her. "Can you do that with just me or with everyone else?"

Chloe looked her old friend over casually, not giving away the fact she already knew he was aroused at the sight of her. She knew Jason wouldn't advance on her since he needed to remain any type of distance or his body would betray him. An absent smile crossed her lips when she noticed him toying with his wedding band. "I'm sure that's not what you came here to ask me, Jason." She stepped closer to him, taking away his choice in this game. "Just like I'm sure Jan made sure you wore that ring when she found out you were coming to see me." Her smile turned positively cold when she asked, "How is the little wife by the way? Still trying to get my scent out of her bed sheets?"

Jason's eyes flared with anger. Chloe always knew which buttons to push. "What happened here?" he asked, having had enough of being here. The sooner he asked the questions, the sooner he could leave and get drunk and _possibly_ get her out of his head by the time he climbed in bed with his wife.

"As I said before, I wasn't here." She moved closer to him until she was damn near inches from him. She was certain no one would come and see them like this because she knew Jason had sent the cops off. He wouldn't allow anyone to see him cozying up to the town harlot. That could be very damning to his career. She licked her lips, never taking her blue eyes away from his. "But that's not what you came here to ask either, is it?"

Jason cleared his throat. "Why don't you tell me what I came here to ask since you're psychic now." He tried very hard to focus on anything but her eyes. She could sink a ship with those eyes.

"You came here to find out if Shawn-Douglas Brady is one of my clients." She backed away from him and turned to face the inside of her club. "I can assure you, Jason, none of my clients would do this." She turned back to face him; something unholy had taken place in her blue orbs. Something Jason knew all too well.

"Have you ever had any contact with Mr. or Mrs. Brady?"

"Which generation?" Chloe asked with a smile that was purely seductive. A smile she used only when she wanted to screw with him.

"Don't play cute with me, Chloe," he admonished her.

"That's funny; you've never used that adjective to describe me before. Goddess usually comes out of your mouth."

"Stop it," he said when she reached out to touch him. He moved from the door, stepping around her, and further into the remains of the club. "I'm a married man."

"That's never stopped you before." She was at his back, her body inches from his. He could smell her perfume. Something exotic and wholly her.

"I have a job to do," he said when he turned to face her. Chloe backed off, that was usually the defense he used. The _only_ one she had yet to find a way to get through. She flashed him a look and he continued. "Have you ever had contact with Mr. or Mrs. Brady?"

"No," she answered easily.

A little too easily as far as Jason was concerned. "Are you sure?"

Chloe's blue eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Yes. I know every patron who has ever graced my dance floor, my bar, or any other place in my club. As you well know."

"Then why do I have witnesses who've said they've seen you and Mr. Brady together here at the club?"

"I don't know. You'll have to ask your witness why they lied to you when you leave here."

"I'm not so sure they are lying," he said and watched her eyes for any indication.

Chloe laughed softly. "Is that based on your own personal dealings with me, Jason? I thought DA's were supposed to be objective."

"I am objective, Chloe, but not when it comes to you. I know what kind of person you are."

"And what kind of person is that?"

"The kind who would do anything to survive."

Chloe smiled again when she noticed the desire he tried to fight off in his green eyes. "You always did have beautiful eyes." She reached out and touched his cheek, surprised when he let her do so. "I've always told you so."

"And your lifestyle will be the death of you." He reached up and removed her hand from his face. Trying hard to forget the times they shared when they were younger and different. "I've always told you so."

Chloe sighed indifferently. "Seems we're at an impasse here, Jason. I don't have any information for you. I wasn't here. I don't know why someone told you that Shawn-Douglas Brady was with me, but I can assure you he wasn't."

She moved away from him, knowing the game they were playing was over. Knowing that she should leave town before someone else - _anyone_ else - said things or asked questions.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to call the insurance company and find out how long before I am able to open the doors of _Eden_ again." She leveled him with a cold look. "If you want answers, I suggest you talk to your nameless witness or Mr. Brady himself."

Jason nodded, turned to go and stopped at the door. "You're too good to be a common prostitute, Chloe," he told her. Her back was to him but he saw her shoulders bristle at the classification. "Maybe the destruction of your club is a sign."

Chloe turned to face him with a face that was impossibly unreadable. The blue eyes that he once loved, that he still loved, held no emotion in them as she said, "I'm anything but common, Jason. I'm very good at what I do. As you well know." She tossed her profession in his face, it always hurt him more.

"I will find out what happened here, Chloe." She knew it was a threat as soon as he said it. "I promise you that." And just like that, he walked out of her doorway and out of her life for the foreseeable future.

Chloe waited a full minute after Jason was gone before pulling out her cell-phone. She dialed a number from memory and spoke clear instructions to the person to find Shawn-Douglas Brady before the sun peaked over the horizon.

When she hung up, she pulled the ring out the opening of her shirt. That nameless witness would have to be taken care of. She'd come too far and done too much to have some idiot spouting off. She really didn't need to have _another_ price placed on her head on top of everything else.

She twisted the ring around her finger absently, not daring to look at it anymore. "Oh, Shawn," she said softly. "I'm sorry it has to be this way."


	3. Chapter 2

|| Chapter Two ||

Miriam Lockhart walked cautiously and quickly through the darkened streets of Salem. To be caught in this part of town at this time of night could be potentially dangerous. She wasn't particularly worried because no one was out, but she'd still rather not take any chances.

Her black combat boots made more noise than she would have liked as she treaded the wet streets. The cuffs of her black cargo pants were getting wet and dirty, and she mentally chided herself for wearing boots that kicked up all kinds of dirt.

She heard movement behind her and her senses kicked into high gear. Pulling the hood of her long black jacket over her red hair, she walked a bit faster. There was more movement up ahead. A quirky little smile crossed her lips. How stupid can some people get?

"Well, well," said a large, burly man. He came out of the side entrance of an alleyway. Miriam stopped in her tracks, not wanting to advance on the man just yet. She could smell the rain that lingered on his drenched clothes. Could see the lecherous intent in his eyes as well as smell the liquor on his breath. "What have we here?"

Miriam looked past him. She was only a few blocks from her destination; she had time to play. "Let me by, please," she said, making sure her voice carried a hint of fear; knowing full well that was what he wanted to hear. "I don't want any trouble." _Yes, I do. Give it to me._

The man was either too drunk or too stupid to see the glint in Miriam's eyes. He was so certain she was sure thing, like a predator circling its prey, getting ready to go in for the kill.

"I don't think I can do that, little darlin'," he told her, walking toward her slowly. Miriam could see his body twitch in anticipation. "I'd be awful lonely if you left." He smiled a crooked smile.

Miriam turned to walk back the way she came when the man who'd been following her came from the shadows. "Now, now," the skinny man, who was just as drunk and just as stupid, started. "You keep tryin' to leave us like this and we're gonna get hurt feelings. Aren't we?"

She backed up slowly, knowing the burly one was behind her, and slowly lowered her hands to her hips. A wicked smile almost broke through as she said as timidly as she could, "Please, don't…" She waited until the burly one was close enough. "…scream," she finished and pulled the large machete from underneath her large jacket and slit the man clean across his throat. He fell to the ground with a heavy thud while the skinny one turned in horrified shock and tried to run. With her free hand, Miriam grabbed the gun from its shoulder holster and fired one shot that caught the man in the back.

Sliding the machete back into its sheath, she removed her hood and shook her red locks free. She started for the skinny would-be rapist slowly, laughing amused when he tried to crawl away. She stepped on the wound her gun created, reveling in his agonizing scream. Kicking him over, she knelt down beside him.

"Scum like you makes me sick," she told him. "You always prey on the weakest and the smallest, but I, my friend, am neither." The man opened his blood-filled mouth but nothing came out. "Shh, don't talk. It'll all be over soon."

The man kept struggling to take a breath. _Pathetic_, Miriam thought. His horror-filled eyes remained wide until he took his last breath. Miriam waited a moment longer, checking for sirens before standing and continuing toward her destination.

She listened for the sirens all the way to the backdoor of Eden. It really shouldn't have surprised her that she heard none. Nobody in this part of town was going to call the cops for anything that happened, and the cops, who already weren't too keen on helping prostitutes and beggars, wouldn't exactly speed over here. Too bad, she could really stand to brush up on her evasion skills.

She walked into the office that miraculously remained untouched by the fire to find Chloe stuffing money into a duffle bag. "Is that my payment for a job well done?" Miriam asked with a crooked smile. "If so, I hope they're in small bills."

Chloe didn't even look up. "I'm in no mood for jokes, Mimi," she said, and meant it. "What are you doing here?"

"Now you know I couldn't resist doing the job when Terry got the call from you tonight."

"Is that because you're bored, can't stand it when your plaything is out of your bed, or because you work for the DiMera's and they hate the Brady's?" Chloe did looked up this time, interested to hear the redheads answer.

Mimi sat in the chair in front the desk and propped her feet up. Her deep green eyes held a hint of mischievousness in them when she said, "While I do hate it when Terry isn't in bed, I was bored." She smiled. "And just to clarify, I'm a freelance mercenary and don't work for anyone."

Chloe rolled her eyes. "Lucky you didn't have a price put on your head when you walked away from Stefano." She went back to loading the money in the bag. "I wasn't so lucky."

It was Mimi's turn to roll her eyes. "_You_ are very lucky. Had anyone else shot and killed E.J. DiMera they would be rotting on the bottom of the lake right now. You, however, were Stefano's favorite pet."

"He still put a price on my head."

Mimi scoffed. "The old man had to save face, Chloe. You killed his son." She shrugged indifferently. "Besides, no one has collected on it yet. Not than anyone ever could; no one can sneak up on you." Bored with the conversation Mimi asked, "What's the loot for? Changing locations?"

"I was on my way out of town when the club went up in flames," Chloe revealed. Mimi found it odd that she was going to leave town without all of this money. Something must be up. "Speaking of which, since you took the job I gave to Terry, what'd you find out?"

"He's in the psych ward at Salem University," Mimi recited from memory all the information she'd found out. "He'd been pumped full of some hallucinogen some time before coming to the club, but is currently full of a sedative."

Chloe nodded quietly, taking in the information, thinking of what to do. She pulled a pile of money from the bag and tossed it into Mimi's lap. "What else?"

Mimi removed her feet from the desk to look properly at the disfigured ring on Chloe's desk. When it caught her sight, she wasn't sure she was seeing it properly. From this angle she could see the Kiriakis emblem perfectly. She looked up at Chloe amused.

"For a woman who's never had any dealings with Shawn-Douglas Brady, why do you have his ring?" she asked, ending with a laugh.

Annoyance flashed in Chloe's blue eyes. "You've been talking to Jason?"

Mimi made a face. "Of course, not. He's been talking to Terry. I just overheard." She leaned back in the chair. "Seems he thinks that Mr. Brady Jr. was a patron of yours based on what happened here earlier and the statement of a witness."

"I already know that," Chloe said, even more annoyed than she was. She figured Jason would go and talk to Terry. He'd probably talk to everyone on her payroll before the night was over.

"Yes, but do you know that the witness was none other than Mrs. Isabella Brady herself?" When Chloe's eyes narrowed and flared all within the same second, Mimi's suspicion was confirmed. "I know we Mercs - retired or not - have a shitload of secrets. That's just the way the job works, but you, old friend, you're sitting on a goldmine of them."

Chloe didn't respond for a long moment. Her eyes stared straight at Mimi but Chloe was obviously looking through her. "Don't believe everything you hear, Mimi," she said finally.

"Oh, I don't," she replied with a wide grin. "But I've known you long enough to know that you won't cut and run - forgetting nearly twenty-thousand dollars - unless a job went wrong." Chloe's eyes remained emotionless, serving only to further confirm what Mimi already believed to be true. "So, what… couldn't kill him because you're in love with him?"

For her part, Chloe didn't let the emotions she'd fought hard to control surface again. She gave a deceptively sweet smile when she said, "I don't know what you're talking about, Mimi. I've never met Shawn Brady."

"See," a slow smile began to spread. "Now you're lying to my face, because I _saw_ you with him. Here, in fact. On this very desk. It was one of your best performances." The redhead leaned forward. "So now, I really have to wonder what went wrong. What's got Chloe Lane so scared that she's going to cut and run, without finishing the job, with a souvenir from her intended mark no less."

Anger flashed hotly in Chloe eyes. She too leaned forward; long black hair framing her face. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm going to finish the job I was paid to do." She leaned back and propped her feet on the desk. "And this isn't a souvenir, it's collateral." She sighed deeply when Mimi chuckled softly. "I need you to do me a favor, old friend."

"What's that?" Mimi asked, intrigued and excited to be a part of Chloe's job.

"I need you to find me a way into the Kiriakis Mansion."

Mimi smiled brightly. A deviously wicked smile that made her green eyes sparkle. "Done."


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I had to cut this chapter because, if I put in everything I wanted to, we'd be here a while. Also, some explicit content so if that squicks you, don't continue. That is all. ;)

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|| Chapter Three ||

Shawn-Douglas Brady was only vaguely aware of his surroundings when he opened his eyes. His head ached and his vision was blurred but he knew for certain that he was no longer in the hospital since this room had an entirely different feeling. There were no padded walls or the disgusting smell of disinfectant. Indeed, this room was darker… and much colder.

The loud chiming of the grandfather clock downstairs told him he'd been brought to the mansion. He'd been brought home.

For some reason, that thought didn't please him.

Perhaps it was because he hated this house and everyone who has ever lived in it - current residents included. Shawn really couldn't remember a time when this house was filled with love and happiness. Even the traditional family holidays turned into business meetings and from the time he was twelve, he'd stopped believing that love or happiness was needed in life.

Having grown up with two of the world's most frigid and vile parents, Shawn's belief that love was nothing more than a weakness of the mind was reaffirmed on a daily basis. It was for that reason that he married a woman he knew he could never love.

Belle Evans had grown up in this house with him as the daughter of his family's maid, Marlena. Her blonde hair and deep blue eyes gave her a regal quality that was lacking in her breeding. Shawn knew that Marlena scrimped and saved every single penny she could to afford her fair Isabella the opportunity to go to college. Being the smart woman she was, Belle graduated with a degree in business - something else Shawn found useful. The day Marlena died was the first time Belle had returned after leaving for college at seventeen, and it was the first time he really saw the contempt his mother had for her.

Of course, his mother hated anything and anyone that could turn her husband's head. Bo was just as famous for his affairs as for his ruthlessness in the boardroom. The only soft spot he held was for two women who were not his wife. Marlena being one of them.

If Shawn were to be completely honest, the only reason he'd ever taken an interest in Belle was because he knew his parents would not approve of the union. He'd calmly reminded them when he and Belle arrived home one evening, to announcing their engagement no less, that he was the controller of his own affairs and the future of their family.

He assured himself that his union with Belle would be prosperous for two reasons: one, he did not love her, and two, she would make an excellent wife. Never had one of his plans come together so beautifully. His wife, Belle did all the right things. She attending the outings he required of her, said the right things to their guests and colleagues when they came to the mansion for various reasons, and she looked very elegant standing on his arm. She would provide him an heir when he deemed the timing to be right, and he would raise their child to be strong and level-headed.

That was the life he'd planned for himself, and he was content.

That was… until he met Chloe.

Even through the thick haze that clouded his mind, he could see her standing before him. She was beautiful - which he felt was a wholly _inadequate_ word to describe her - standing there in the room she reserved at the club; partially naked with a smile that was a mixture of seductive and sweet. Shawn didn't know it was possible to desire someone the way he desired Chloe. He felt one day soon it might consume him and burn him up.

He welcomed it. He welcomed the desire she incited by just a look and the pleasurable pain she inflicted upon his body at his request. He'd never forget the long, sweltering nights they shared because they were forever emblazoned in his memories.

Shawn had loved her since the first night, perhaps even before.

He'd gone to Eden for the sole intent purpose of seeking her out. He'd heard stories from the men who worked at his family's company of the nightly entertainment to be had and that alone had piqued his interest. They'd spoke of a woman whose beauty surpassed their wildest fantasies, and upon seeing her picture on the back of a flyer surrounded by other beautiful girls - though she really stood out amongst them with those electric blue eyes and that deceptively sweet smile - Shawn knew he'd have to pay the illicit club a visit.

He hadn't seen her personally since they were children. Not since before her parents died and she was sent away to live with another relative. He remembered what her eyes looked like as a child, so impossibly innocent and gentle. Her smile was genuine and unassuming, and he loved her. God help him, he loved her. However, that child was nothing like the woman he'd encountered at the club.

He stood in the darkened shadows near the doors of the club watching her perform a simulated sex act on stage with a man who was nearly as unbelievably good-looking as she was. She stood over top of him, long, tanned legs peeking out from underneath a leather skirt that flared just underneath her hips, with a leather-clad boot pressing into the man's back. Shawn felt his body react at the sight of her bare breasts bouncing when she mounted the man. He felt his groin tighten and enflame with yearning when he watched her grab the man's hair that had been tied into a neat ponytail and yanked his head back, hard; and he ached for release.

When the show was over and he sought her, he found her standing behind the bar - wearing the same leather outfit but with a leather halter-top barely covering her luscious breasts - it was all he could do to stop himself from kneeling at her feet in complete worship.

Her blue eyes caught his, and for a moment, he thought she remembered him from that one meeting in their childhood. She smiled absently at him, her eyes never leaving his, and waited. Shawn's feet were like lead when he walked up to the bar. He looked over and saw one of Titan Inc's - his family's company - married board members having a drink. The girl standing at his side couldn't have been anymore than eighteen and her hand stroked and squeezed his groin. The man met Shawn's gaze briefly before hurriedly finishing his drink and dragging the girl away. His attention returned to Chloe, who was fending off the advances of some of her patrons - male and female.

"Well, isn't this a special night," she said, her voice low and carrying a hint of amusement. Her eyes sparkled against the flashing neon lights over the dance floor. "I've had some heavy hitters in my club before, but never blue-blood royalty." She gave him a smile that nearly stopped his heart. "What can I get you, Mr. Brady?" She already had a glass out in front of him.

"Scotch," he said slowly, his own chocolate eyes filled with nothing but lust. Chloe reached below the bar and pulled out a bottle of her finest scotch. Poured it slowly, the edges of her mouth quirking slowly into an amused smirk. "And I'd like for you to call me Shawn," he said, and then took a sip of his drink. Pulling out a large wad of cash, he held it up for her to see. "Actually, I'd prefer if you screamed it."

Shawn watched as her eyes searched his for a long time. He wondered if she was considering his offer, or that of other patrons, when she smiled at him. Her smile this time was genuine and warm, almost as if he surprised her. She placed the bottle on the bar top and whispered something into the ear of one of her bartenders before turning back to Shawn. She didn't say anything, didn't have to, the look she gave him was enough. She beckoned him to follow her.

He rose from the stool and followed her to the edge of the bar. He finally was close enough to get a proper look at her, and realized that her picture hardly did her justice. Her hair hung in an unruly mass of curls halfway down her back. Her tanned skin glistened with sweat and Shawn watched her curvy hips sway as she walked in front of him.

Chloe lead him through large double doors into another area of the club. The lighting and atmosphere was different in this part of the club. Soft shadows of the naked bodies writhing in various corners flickered on the walls from the candle light fixtures hanging from the ceiling. Against the back wall, the entire back wall actually, was like a waterfall. It was made of glass and shadows of male and female silhouettes danced slowly behind it. In the middle of the room was a large Jacuzzi - larger than any Shawn had ever seen - and that too was occupied with naked lovers who seemed oblivious to one another - or so Shawn thought.

He followed Chloe to the foot of the double staircase in the back of the room right in front the glass wall. Looking up, he could see the various rooms and wondered what they looked like compared to the rest of the club. But he was most eager to see Chloe's room. He was most eager to see her skin up close and personal, eager to touch it and to taste her.

Shawn followed her to the door right at the top of the stairs and Chloe stood off to the side, allowing him to go inside first. The room was done in soft red velvet. Candle light, just a little darker than that downstairs, flickered against the red walls.

He turned, vaguely aware of the sound of her closing the door softly and locking it, and found her leaning against the door. Her eyes filled with lust but the rest of her expression was unreadable. They watched each other for a moment, neither moving nor speaking, until Shawn started forward. His body was in full control now as he reached out and touched her face. He could tell the gesture surprised her when, for just a second, something vulnerable flashed in her blue orbs. Shawn's eyes fell to her mouth, full pink lips that he longed to taste. He leaned forward, more confident of himself than he'd ever been and kissed her soundly. His tongue flicked across her lips, teasing them, coaxing them to open. When they did, his tongue darted in quickly, savoring the taste of her. He heard her moan and felt her body relax against his.

Pulling away, Shawn's brown eyes caught hers as soon as they opened. He smiled, for the first time in as long as he could remember, he really smiled. His hands that had braced the door on either side of her tentatively touched her bare waist. Confidence growing by the second, Shawn undid the zipper on her skirt and pulled her body away from the door just enough for it to pool to the floor.

Kneeling slowly in front of her, nipping briefly at the edge of her white, sheer thong, Shawn lifted her legs out of the skirt one at a time, leaving the calf-high leather boots on her feet. He kissed the leather boot on one of her legs, lifting it up again slowly to kiss the inside of her thigh. His breath must have tickled her because he felt her shiver. He could smell her scent - a thick earthy scent - and his mouth watered. Looking up at her, his eyes were full of need. "What can I do to you?" he asked, his voice thick with lust. His fingers hooked on the sides of her thong, pulled…

Chloe's eyes fell blissfully closed when she felt his tongue against intimate flesh. "Anything you want," she answered breathlessly.

That first encounter happened more than six months ago, and Shawn has spent almost every night since in her bed. He lived under no illusions about how she lived her life and what she did before she returned to Salem, but he couldn't help it. He loved her. She was his and he would do anything he could to have her.

Even if he had to kill someone…


End file.
